


Lovely

by frosteddream



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Bloodshed, Bottom Louis, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, Top Harry, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Violence, Warlocks, Witches, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosteddream/pseuds/frosteddream
Summary: On the run from a past marked by an immeasurable amount of bloodshed, Louis and his group of misfits can't settle anywhere without something horrific happening, and usually, he's quite indifferent to it. It gets annoying, but it's not like he's prone to growing attached to things. However, when he moves to a quiet suburb in a small town, he finds something detrimental to his situation, an anchor.Come say hi to me on Tumblr!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, where do I begin? First of all, I apologize for pretty much being dead for a year. My personal life has just been... so much, and I've been focusing on other things, spending my creative energy on a lot of fun projects I can't wait to share with the world someday. Second, if you've been following it, you may have noticed that I deleted HTATW. If you've been reading it, I'm so very very verrrrry sorry, but the story is something that I have chosen not to focus on anymore. I'm really sorry if you enjoyed it. It's just something I'm no longer passionate about. Again, I apologize. I know the pain of a discontinued fic, and I'm sorry for subjecting you to that if you were reading it :( Third, I HAVE WRITTEN SOMETHING NEW AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT :D

When the sun falls over the horizon, leaving behind endless black punctured by a full moon, Louis soundlessly ascends the steps of the basement. Satisfied from yesterday’s feast and a twelve hour rest, he no longer feels as if he’s two seconds away from biting someone’s head off. As he opens the basement door, he hears a loud thud followed by swearing. Curious, he heads to the kitchen. Upon entry, he sees Olivier gripping his foot in agony. One look at the fallen hammer right next to him clues Louis in on what happened.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

Olivier glares at him before answering in a sarcastic tone, “Worry not if it does, _young master_.”

Louis’ eyes bore through his, demanding an apology with no twitch of a muscle, no sound, and no emotion. Olivier swallows the growing lump in his throat before bowing his head in submission.

“Good man,” Louis says. “Where’s my sister?”

Olivier rubs his sore foot as he mutters, “ _Front porch_.”

Louis nods before he swiftly leaves the kitchen and enters the living room. The front door is wide open, framing Fizzy as she sits on the steps. A slight breeze, perfumed with a lavender scent Louis is already growing fond of, tousles her already unruly hair. She’s motionless as she gazes out into the cul-de-sac, examining every colonial style home in her line of vision. Louis walks out onto the porch and sits next to her. She still doesn’t move.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

She bites a bit of skin off her lip and swallows to soothe her drying throat. “I like it here. I want to stay.” she turns to make eye contact with her brother. “I want to stay for a long time.”

Louis’ eyes darken. “Is that so?”

She turns away, her cheeks turning red in shame. “Is Olivier hurt? I heard him shout.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “He’s well. I knew I should’ve boarded up the windows. Methuselah could do it faster than this knob.”

Fizzy laughs, amused by Louis’ omnipresent disdain for the man. “Oh, spare more kindness for him, brother. He does so much for us.”

“ _More kindness?_ ” Louis stresses the words as if they’re foreign to him. “Are you implying that I have spared him kindness in the past? Don’t insult me.” he trains his eyes on a pebble he nudges with his bare foot. “I can never be kind to that man… _never_.”

Fizzy zones out again. She reminds Louis so much of their mother, trapped in her own mind.

“May I braid your hair?” he asks, already positioning himself behind her.

She shrugs, feigning nonchalance even though she adores her brother braiding her hair. Before he begins, he runs his fingers through the tangled locks, combing out the knots.

“I like it here,” she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll behave. I’ll try my absolute hardest. I promise.”

Louis sighs before he leans forward and kisses the back of her head. “Just keep yourself satisfied, ok? As long as Olivier has the tiniest bit of competence, the fridge will always be full.”

Fizzy giggles. “Did you call Olivier competent?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Everyone is to some degree.”

The air is filled with comfortable silence. As Louis fashions two Dutch braids on his sister’s head, the world around them begins to shut down completely. Every remaining porch light switches off.

“Have you gotten in contact with the others?” Fizzy asks, suddenly breaking the silence.

“I have,” Louis answers. “They’ll be here by the end of the week. The hunters are still on their tail.”

she bites her lip to keep her eyes from welling up. Regret weighs down her guilt stricken heart.

“They’ll be fine,” Louis assures. “I promise.”

Fizzy doesn’t say a word.

Silence once again falls between the siblings. Louis finishes up the braids but continues to sit with his sister, blankly staring at their new surroundings. He’s spaced out for a while before he feels it, a pair of eyes staring at his profile. He turns his head and looks straight at one of the second floor windows of a pale blue house.

He sees a boy, a bright eyed boy with full red lips, rosy cheeks, and a head full of curls that reach his collarbones. The boy looks taken aback when Louis looks at him. In fact, he appears to be in pure disbelief that Louis spotted him from such a distance. It’s not far, but it’s certainly not close either. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red as he swiftly closes his curtains.

Louis doesn't know what he's feeling.

~

Niall is sprawled out on the linoleum floor of the clinic waiting room, staring up at the ceiling with a huge, satisfied grin on his face. His stomach is filled with sustenance, his eyes are glossy, and after weeks of looking like a ghost of his former self, his cheeks are rosy once again. Faintly, he can ear Jonah and Ari still messing around the blood bank, chatting jovially as they take a lot more than they need.

“Jonah, don’t fuck with that!” Ari shouts.

Niall hears a loud crash a mere second later.

He groans as he rolls over onto his stomach and reluctantly rises to his feet. As he leaves the waiting room and makes his way to the blood bank, he internally chastises himself for leaving Jonah and Ari alone. He knew they’d eventually break something.

Niall enters the blood bank and instantly wants to choke someone. A fridge full of A positive and O negative is knocked down. Jonah and Ari are just _looking_ at the mess of blood and glass with slack jawed expressions. When they see Niall, they point at each other.

“It’s her fault!” Jonah shouts.

Ari shakes her head insistently, resembling a golden retriever attempting to dry their fur. “He’s the one who climbed the damn thing!”

Niall massages his temples, hoping to relieve his growing migraine. It isn’t working. “Why… _why_ would you climb the fridge?”

Jonah suddenly looks embarrassed as he glances away from Niall and stuffs his hands in his pockets. His bangs cover his eyes, acting as their curtains. He’s silent for a moment before he points at a wall clock right above where the fridge used to be. It’s obviously a joke item. The face showcases the numbers piled up at the bottom with _who cares?_ written at the top in bold script.

Niall pinches the bridge of his nose. “You thought the clock was funny…”

Jonah nods.

“So you tried to get it.”

Jonah nods again.

Niall groans. “How is this Ari’s fault?”

“She made me fall!” Jonah accuses. “She grabbed me!”

Ari’s eyes grew comically wide. “I was just trying to get his dumb ass down before he broke something!”

Niall looks back down at the mess then looks back up at Ari. "Good job."

Ari clenches her teeth.

Niall jumps on top of the fallen fridge and rips the clock off the wall. He then raises the item in front of Jonah and waves it in front of him. “Bring me the security guards. If you come back in two minutes, I’ll give you a prize.”

Jonah stares at the clock with shining, determined eyes before he nods eagerly and runs out of the room. Niall hops off the fridge and faces a curious looking Ari.

“What do you need the guards for?” she asks.

Niall’s expression remains blank, giving nothing away. “You’ll see.”

She scoffs, but doesn’t say anything more. Thirty seconds of silence comes and goes.

“Has Louis contacted you yet?” Ari asks.

“Yep,” Niall answers.

“How long have they been at the house?”

“Couple days.”

“How’s everyone?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Positive?”

“Yep.”

“Absolutely-”

“ _Ari_ ," Niall says, his tone gentle. "Everyone is fine."

She takes a deep breath and nods to herself. The two stand in silence until Jonah comes running in with three knocked out guards. He’s dragging two of them by their collars and has one of them slung over his shoulders.

“One minute and twenty two seconds!” he says with a huge grin.

“Good boy,” Niall praises insincerely, tossing him the clock.

Jonah allows the guards to hit the floor in his efforts to catch it. He looks down at his prize with pure joy, momentarily warming Niall’s heart.

Niall looks at Ari and holds his hand out. “Spot me, junkie.”

She gives him the finger as she digs into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a blister pack of Valium. Her reddened cheeks begin to pale as she stares at it. Without looking at what she’s holding, one would assume she’s gazing down at a child she’s seconds away from losing.

“How much are you taking?” She asks.

“You can score some more at the pharmacy,” he assures.

With one last mournful look at her stash, she hands it to Niall with trembling fingers.

~

Liam observes the scene before him with his uncovered eye, going over all the evidence in his head.

Unconscious guards with heavy doses of Valium in their systems, a knocked over fridge full of A positive and O negative blood, tampered surveillance footage revealing nothing between the hours of 2:23 AM and 4:02 AM, and, for a reason he doesn’t think he’ll ever find, a missing wall clock.

“Bloodsuckers,” he scoffs. “Conniving bunch of bastards… Quinn!”

Quinn, Liam’s right hand woman, rushes in. “Anything else?”

“Nah,” he answers. “Besides what they want you to see, it’s all clean.” he begins to walk around the room. “When this place opens up in an hour and the authorities are called, they’ll assume it’s a case of drugged up security guards messing with the merchandise. Not too shabby. I bet the blond one came up with the idea. He appears to be the only one with a brain.”

Quinn nods. “Yeah, this is definitely his handiwork… I caught their scent.”

Liam perks up at that. “Really? Shit, they _just_ left.”

“They stuck around for a while,” she confirms. “They’re heading…” she breathes in deeply, her brown eyes turning a dark shade of red. “Northeast.”

Liam nods before turning his attention back to the crime scene.

“Liam,” she sighs. “You know… we’re running out of time. The council-”

“We’ll catch them,” Liam says, his tone even. “No need to worry about that. I will bring Louis back home… and I will watch the life drain from his eyes as Irina takes his undeserved immortality. This I swear to you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly the most fun I've had writing a fic! TAOBAG is a cloooose second. I hope you enjoy!

_Louis is wandering around a field dimly lit by early morning light, his bare feet covered in mud and blades of grass. His body feels light and every movement feels out of his control. He's a curious soul trapped inside a heavily sedated vessel. The fog surrounding the area hinders his sight, prohibiting the ability to see an inch in front of him, but he can still recognize where he is._

_When he breathes in a familiar, sweet, mouth watering scent, he pauses. He closes his eyes and allows the scent to invade his nostrils for a second time. He can taste it. It’s delighting his tongue and creating an ache in his belly. He clenches his teeth and breathes in more. There’s a growl trapped at the base of his throat. He keeps swallowing the saliva welling up in his mouth. He can feel his fangs retracting. They’re itching to extract._

_“Marigold...”_

_He stops sniffing. Gradually, his eyes open. Looming over him, there’s a towering statue of a weeping bare naked angel. Her wings are chipped, her hands cover her face, her hair reaches her feet, and grossly emphasized veins cover her breasts and thighs._

_Louis looks up at her with wonder coloring his features. He has never seen anything so gorgeously flawed. A red substance slips through the statue’s fingers and drips onto his face. It starts as a trickle and gradually turns into a flood. He keeps his eyes and mouth shut, allowing this substance to soak his entire body as if it’s merely rainwater._

_He wants a taste, his tongue is aching for just one drop._

_“My sweet, precious marigold, how could you allow yourself to become this vile?”_

_This voice is familiar to him, and the disappointment staining it brings tears to his eyes._

_“You run and run and run, and for what?”_

_The blood stops flowing. Louis lowers his head and lets the tears escape him._

_“There is no end.”_

“Louis!”

Louis, now newly awake and alert, swiftly grabs the nearest person to him and pins them down on the floor. He’s in complete combat mode until he takes in the excited face of his sister. Upon further inspection, he sees a sliver of light coming from the grimy basement window.

“Fizzy,” he groans, standing up and sitting on the edge of his mattress. “Go back to sleep.”

 _“Listen,”_ she pleads, her eyes wide as she looks up at him.

Louis only has to sit in silence for a couple of seconds to hear the cause of Fizzy's excitement. The sound of heavy rain hitting the roof buries warmth within his stomach. He looks at his sister with raised eyebrows and jumps off the bed. Still in their night clothes, the two run upstairs, out of the basement, then out the front door within seconds. They’re instantly soaked to the bone by relentless rainfall, but it elicits nothing but laughter from both of them. When they reach the middle of the cul-de-sac, they face each other, their expressions feigning malice.

“Queen Ingrid,” Louis says, taking on a deep and velvety smooth tone. “I have grown tired of your insolence. Surrender your gold to me or perish!”

Fizzy smirks. “I’m not going down without a fight, you brutish bastard.”

“Well...” Louis chuckles. “You leave me no choice.”

Louis lunges for Fizzy, but she quickly jumps away before he can knock her off her feet. She crouches down and swipes his foot with hers, knocking him on the ground. He jumps back up on his feet before she can sock him in the nose.

“You’re getting old, captain,” Fizzy taunts. “Maybe you should-”

Before she finishes, Louis’ in her space and lifting her off the ground. She tries to grab at his arm to twist it, but he’s throwing her across the cul-de-sac before that can happen. She grimaces as pain explodes in her injured cheek, but it goes away as quickly as it comes. She stands back up.

“You’ve got a strong arm, captain,” she says.

Louis shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m King of the seven seas, dear.”

Fizzy scoffs before she lunges at him, grabbing his fist as it swings at her and punching him in the jaw. He staggers back, the fresh mark bruising up and healing in a matter of seconds.

“Good right hook,” he says.

It’s now her turn to shrug. “I’m a Queen, love."

The two engage in ten minutes of nonstop combat, trading insults and, in a few character breaking moments, a few laughs. Soon, Louis is completely caught up in the moment. When Fizzy lunges at him again, he shoots his hands out and throws them upward, causing her to levitate off the ground.

“Higher!” Fizzy giggles, her eyes wide in excitement.

Normally, this is when the rational, mature side of Louis takes over, but the carefree, deprived side keeps it locked away. He sends his sister up and up and up until she’s well above every house in the cul-de-sac.

“This is fucking cool!” she shouts.

A second later, Olivier comes storming out of the house. His young appearance is overshadowed by a demeanor attributed to him by his advanced age. In shock, Louis loses focus and sends Fizzy plummeting back onto the ground. She lands with a thud, but, as usual, the injuries disappear as fast as they came. Olivier picks her and Louis up, throws them over his shoulders, and heads back into the house. Louis kicks and swears the entire time while Fizzy remains silent. Once inside, Olivier drops the siblings on the floor of the living room.

“Have you lost your goddamn minds?!” Olivier spits.

Fizzy looks down in shame. “We’re sorry.”

“Sorry?” Louis grimaces. “Sorry for what? Having fun?”

Olivier looks at him in shock. “Are… Are you serious? Lou, you’re supposed to be the responsible one!”

“Don’t you raise your fucking voice at me!” Louis snaps, standing up and getting in Olivier’s face. “It’s not like anyone saw us! The only people who live around here are too old to move around by themselves and…”

Louis pauses. For the first time, he thinks about the boy in the window.

“And what?!” Olivier shouts.

Louis’ eyes darken. “Know your fucking place.”

Olivier looks scared for a moment before he closes his eyes and composes himself. “The only thing your mother asked for-”

“Don’t you fucking dare-”

“Was the safety of you and your sister. Though I fear your power, I will keep my promise. If you can't be careful for anyone in this house, be careful for _her_."

There’s nothing but silence, the kind of silence that permeates the room and rings louder than a fire alarm. Fizzy has tears running down her cheeks and even though Louis is standing his ground, Olivier doesn’t buckle. Eventually, Louis rolls his eyes and heads back down to the basement, telling Olivier to go fuck himself as he goes.

~

_Do the D-A-N-C-E_

_One, two, three, four, fight_

_Stick to the B-E-A-T_

_Get ready to ignite_

_You were such a P-Y-T_

_Catching all the lights_

_Just as easy as A-B-C_

_That’s how you make it right_

Niall, Jonah, and Ari are all taking shelter in the junkyard, passing around a bottle of vodka and staring up at the stars. Niall’s got a little buzz going, Ari’s tipsy, and Jonah is _smashed_. Currently, he’s on top of a 2002 Chevy that’s seen better days, dancing to top 40 hits from the late 2000s. In his drunken state, he managed to hotwire the car and get the radio to work. His feet are moving at a dizzying rate and even though he’s been at it for half an hour, he isn’t the least bit tired.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Ari laughs, taking another swig of vodka. “God, it’s so good to have blood in my system again. I missed being able to get drunk.”

Niall sighs. “I know how you feel. Being inebriated is the only way I can handle you morons.”

Normally Ari would flip him off or curse him out, but she’s in such a good mood, she just laughs and gives him a playful swat on the arm.

Jonah begins to shout out lyrics with vigor. “Do the dance! The way you move is a mystery! Do the dance! You’re always there for music and me!”

“Jonah, please change that shit!” Niall demands. “I hated this song when it was popular and I hate it now!”

Jonah rolls his eyes, but hops off the hood of the car to change songs. Soon, D.A.N.C.E. is replaced by something he _knows_ Niall will like.

_S-O-S she is in disguise_

_S-O-S she is in disguise_

_There’s a she wolf in disguise_

_Coming out, coming out, coming out_

Niall’s grin is so wide, all of his teeth are showing. “You’ve been putting off the good shit!”

Jonah climbs back on top of the Chevy and holds his hand out to Niall. Without any hesitation, Niall takes his hand and hops on the car. Ari cheers the boys on as they dance like idiots and belt out the lyrics. They pass around vodka, laugh into the night, and momentarily forget that they’re being hunted.

“There’s a she wolf in the closet!” Niall belts out. “Open up and set her free!”

“Awoo!” Jonah howls at the moon.

“There’s a she wolf in the closet! Let it out so it can breathe!”

~

For the rest of the day, Louis doesn’t sleep a wink. Even now, he’s just laying in his bed, staring up at a single light bulb held up by a wire. It’s one AM, he can hear Olivier and Fizzy talking upstairs about today’s events, but he remains where he is. There are so many things competing for a bigger space in his mind.

His lapse in judgment. His mother. His sister. His moronic use of his powers. The blowout with Olivier. The boy.

They’re all causing him to have a migraine.

He’s shocked at how he behaved. Being an ass to Olivier is normal, but he’s usually more careful, more rational, more mature. He doesn’t make spontaneous decisions, especially ones that involve him using his powers in _broad fucking daylight_.

He groans and turns over onto his stomach. He needs air, but Olivier won’t let him leave the house. Louis almost laughed in his face when he placed such a mortal punishment on him, but of course, he used Louis’ mother to get him to bend to his will.

_“You know she’d hate how irresponsible you’re being.”_

Louis sighs. “Fuck it.”

He closes his eyes and empties his thoughts to the best of his ability. Images flash in his brain at breakneck speed until his entire body grows numb. He feels his muscles disconnect from his bones and place themselves back together. Light rain covers his skin. When he opens his eyes again, he’s laying on the lawn outside the pale blue house. He quickly stands on his feet, confused as to why he sent himself here. He wanted to go to the park he saw on the drive here or some random McDonald’s to charm a big mac out of some poor cashier, but he’s in front of the boy’s house. He doesn’t know how long he stands out there, it feels like hours, but he eventually turns around to walk away

He stops dead in his tracks. The boy, dressed in a yellow floral raincoat and matching boots, stares back at him in wonder.

“Um… salutations,” he says.

Louis nearly melts on the spot. He’s a sucker for a voice that reminds him of Briskey’s special dark, a type of chocolate he use to eat in his youth… his _real_ youth. It’s slow, deep, and has a nice rasp to it. He wants the boy to tell him folktales.

“Salutations?” Louis snorts, feigning discontent. “What year were you born in?”

“1998,” the boy answers. “But sometimes… I feel like it’s supposed to be something like 1987 or 1873.”

Louis cocks his head to the side. “Those are very specific years.”

“I like specificity,” the boy says. “My name is Harry, Harry Styles, and I would like to know you’re name.” he looks down, his cheeks reddening. “I… it seems fair to exchange names since you’re on my granny's property.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis spits out. “I’ll… I… I’m Louis.”

Louis wants to smack himself for getting tongue tied in the presence of a _mortal_. Harry smiles shyly, revealing two dimples that make Louis want to curse him.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Louis,” Harry says, his tone so _painfully_ sincere.

Louis doesn't know what to say, so he just goes with the first thing that comes to mind. "Where were you today between the hours of 7 and 8 AM."

A surprised laugh escapes Harry's throat, but it ends as quickly as it began. He slaps a hand over his mouth, looking shocked and embarrassed. This confuses Louis. He thinks Harry has a lovely laugh. It's loud, it's true, it's the sound of unadulterated joy, and he can't imagine why the boy would feel ashamed of it.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Harry says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You just reminded me of my dad. He always asked things like he was interrogating someone." he gently places a stray curl behind his ear. "I was out at that time. I had class."

"Oh... alright then," Louis says. He internally curses himself to the deepest layer of Hell for giving such a lame response.

“Perhaps we can be friends?” Harry suddenly says, his expression hopeful. "Unless..." he looks down. "You don't want to. It's ok if you don't. Please don't feel any pressure. Oh, God, I'm so lame. Why did I even ask? We're not children. I just... I'm sorry."

Louis’ in too deep. He hasn’t known this boy for ten minutes and he’s already sinking. He has to claw his way out.

“Absolutely not,” he says, storming past him.

He doesn’t turn around or pause. He just walks across the cul-de-sac and enters the house. He ignores Olivier, he brushes past Fizzy, and he wants to rid the world of dimples and dark chocolate voices.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying this story at least half as much as I enjoy writing it! xx

The only things capable of soothing frazzled nerves are high amounts of sugar, a scalding hot bath, and Electric Light Orchestra, or at least that’s the case for Louis. Currently, he’s immersed in a full tub with a radio cranked up as high as it can go and a bag full of convenience store candy right next to it. The bathroom door is locked, the room is lit by a single vanilla scented candle, and Olivier and Fizzy have been instructed to not disturb him unless the situation is dire.

_Someone is waiting, lurking in the trees_

_The spirit of her is walking back to me_

_Ah, look at me now feeling emotion_

_Ah, look at me now_

Louis breathes a deep sigh before dunking his head under the water. As he stares up at the ceiling, his vision warped but still impressively sharp, he ponders his immortality. He ponders the fact that his heart is stagnant and his ability to breathe is nonexistent, yet he’s here, walking among people who actively fear such conditions due to the fact that they could bring their end. He ponders the fact that he can stay below this water for days, for weeks, for months, for centuries. He’ll live through it and face this forever changing world. He ponders the fact that everything has an end, how eternity is inherently impossible. The Earth will perish one way or another, whether it’s from the sun exploding and taking it out or humans continuing their path to self destruction. It will end, and when it does, Louis might be a witness to it.

_“Will I survive? Will I spend my days walking among ash and rubble if I do? Will I see the creation of life after humanity? Will there be life after humanity?”_

These are all things Louis constantly thinks about, but no one else seems to bother with. He assumes the resistance of such thoughts come from fear, an emotion he doesn’t waste much time with.

His head reemerges from the water before he reaches out of the tub to grab a red vine. As he munches on the candy, he closes his eyes and focuses his energy on a face… a spirit… and then a mind.

_“Niall, can you hear me?”_

_“Jesus Christ! How many times have I told you not to randomly pop up like that?”_

_“There is no lead up to this kind of shit, jackass! Anyway, are all of you ok?”_

_“Yes, mother, we’re fine.”_

Louis rolls his eyes as he grabs another red vine. _“I have the power to paralyze you. You know that, right?”_

_“Oh, I am shaking! I am in fear of the almighty Lou- Fuck! Did you twist my nipple?!”_

_“Maybe.”_

With that, Louis breaks their connection. He lays back and continues soaking in his bath, eating his sweets, and believing the 70s were the peak of mortal music, and the mid to late 2000s are close behind.

_Queen of the hours_

_Lies waiting for the wind_

_To blow away the veil of time_

Louis curses to himself as thoughts of Harry pop back into his mind. It’s been two days since he harshly denied a friendship with the mortal, and ever since then, Louis has felt strange. Whenever he thinks about the probable anguish Harry felt after being treated such a way, he feels as if a huge medicine ball is sitting at the bottom of his stomach. It’s something he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.

Guilt.

He sinks his head back into the water.

~

“And so, I ask every shadow to wander from their assigned form. I ask every breath to be dedicated to the moon. I ask every step to lead us away from the sickness of man. I ask for the mind, body, and spirit to be free from bondage.”

Louis is laying on Fizzy’s lap, gradually falling asleep to the sound of her poetry. Just like their mother, she has always had a deep adoration for the written word. The ability to command language to speak your personal truth is a skill she has spent decades refining.

“Read me another,” Louis requests.

Fizzy giggles, closing her journal and setting it aside. “Aren’t you tired?”

He yawns. “Not even close.”

Fizzy rolls her eyes, but the action obviously comes from a place of fondness rather than irritation. She pushes him off her lap and heads over to her bed.

“I can’t wait until Olivier is finished with our bedrooms,” she says.

Louis places a hand over his stagnant heart, feigning offense. “Are you eager to get away from me?”

“Most definitely,” she sighs. “I can’t stand you at times. You constantly ask me to read to you…”

“Because you have a lovely voice.”

“You always ask me outlandish questions when you can’t sleep…”

“Because I’m a curious person.”

“And you’re a smartass!”

Louis grins. “You’re too kind.”

Fizzy just stares at him before she flops back onto her bed. “Yep. I definitely need my own space.”

The two sit at their respective spaces in comfortable silence. They can hear Olivier walking around upstairs, presumably working on a broken windowsill in Niall’s eventual bedroom.

“Are you ok, brother?” Fizzy suddenly asks.

Louis doesn’t bother asking what led her to the conclusion that he’s out of sorts. It’s like a pterodactyl on the roof of a suburban home at this point.

“I’m just a little stressed,” he answers.

She snorts. “You? Stressed? Don’t insult me. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re not entitled to that information,” he says monotonously. “You don’t tell me everything and I don’t tell you everything.”

Fizzy looks genuinely hurt. “I… I _do_ tell you everything.”

“Don’t lie.”

“But I-”

“If you told me everything, we wouldn’t be here.”

Fizzy clenches her teeth as she turns away from him and crosses her arms. “Good morning.”

The air is tense. Olivier can no longer be heard, so Louis assumes he turned in for the day. For a moment, Louis wishes he and Fizzy had the ability to breathe. In this moment, he longs to hear something. He hates dead silence.

He sighs. “There’s this boy across the street.”

Fizzy is far too curious to stay mad, so she turns over to face her brother. “A boy?”

He nods.

She grins. “A _cute_ boy?”

Louis pats himself on the back for only drinking a modest amount of blood for dinner. He knows he’d be blushing like a fool if he was as greedy as he wanted to be.

“Your silence says everything,” Fizzy says. “Are you infatuated with him?”

“Of course not,” Louis scoffs. “I’ve only talked to him once.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s where you went?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he insists. “I… I wanted to teleport, but I wanted to go somewhere else. I don’t know why I ended up outside his house.”

“Perhaps…” Fizzy trails off, biting her bottom lip to hold in a huge grin. “It’s destiny.”

Louis rolls his eyes and turns away from her. “I’ve had enough of you and I wish to sleep.”

She laughs. “Welcome the feeling, brother. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Louis ponders that for a moment before deciding infatuation and anything akin to it are indeed beautiful things. However, it’s not uncommon for chaos and devastation to follow them.

“There’s nothing for me to welcome,” he says.

The conversation ends there.

~

To Niall’s chagrin, Jonah and Ari grew too weary to travel another inch, or at least that’s what they claimed. He was able to tune out their bitching and moaning for the first half hour, but after much persistence on their end, he reluctantly suggested for all of them to rest in an abandoned warehouse.

“Whiny little bitches,” Niall mutters to himself, sitting by a grimy open window

“We hear you!” Ari shouts, but she doesn’t have a shred of anger in her body.

Giggling like a child with a sugar rush, she’s jumping on a springy mattress riddled with strange stains, high off her ass from some pills she found during their pharmacy stop.

“I don’t know what this shit is, but they look appetizing to the brain.” She said at the time.

Jonah, casually smoking a joint on top of an immobile semi, grins at her. “I’m sure he wanted us to hear him. It’s ok, Ni. We’ll be back on the road in no time. Besides, it’s almost day and I don’t feel like burning to ash.”

Niall crosses his arms over his chest. “The moment the sun comes up, both of you are getting thrown out.”

“You  wouldn’t throw us out!” Ari laughs. “You love us!”

“Especially me,” Jonah adds, throwing him a wink.

Niall rolls his eyes before he looks out the window. He watches the dark blue of early morning shift into pastel orange bleeding into pink. At some point, he can hear Jonah snoring and Ari messing around the warehouse. For a moment, he’s reminded of when he was alive, when he could watch the sun rise without having to retreat before the grand finale. He’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the sun inching closer over the horizon. He feels himself getting lifted and dragged further inside the warehouse.

“Ari, cover the window,” Jonah orders, keeping a firm hold on Niall.

Ari is quick on her feet, using a tarp to cover the window in record time. Even when she’s high off her ass, she’s dependable and able to read a tense mood.

Jonah turns Niall around to face him. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah…” Niall trails off, a little breathless. “I’m fine. I… I just… I was thinking.”

“About what?” Jonah scoffs. “Death? You’re lucky I woke up when I did.”

Niall glares at him as he escapes his hold. “I’m not a child. Don’t scold me.”

Jonah sighs, the stress of the situation making him look as ancient as he is. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Fuck,” Ari sighs, rubbing her temples. “I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention. I-”

 _“Stop!”_ Niall bellows, causing Jonah and Ari to flinch. “I am _not_ a fucking child. I don’t need you two fussing over me, especially since I’m the one keeping you guys alive! I’m sorry for zoning out, it won’t happen again, but don’t-”

He’s cut off when a loud thud resounds throughout the warehouse. Ari instantly climbs on top of the semi while Jonah and Niall separate to check the floor. Together, the three of them scope out the area. Niall turns a corner, carefully avoiding beams of sunlight, and heads into a section where the windows are blocked. His steps are light, his hearing is overly sensitive, and his guard is up. He travels deeper into the darkness, a smell reminiscent of sour milk nearly bringing a tear to his eyes, and finally spots the source of the sound.

In front of him, there’s a rogue feasting on the entrails of a nearly dead trash collector. The worker fixes his glassy eyes on Niall, his face turned up in agony and confusion, before a light, scratchy sound escapes his throat. Niall watches as the last of his life drains from his eyes. He doesn’t know how long he stands there before the rogue perks up and looks back. Her feral eyes seem to look right through him as she licks the man’s blood from her face and fingers. It’s like eyeing a person with an extreme sweet tooth indulging themselves in buttercream icing.

The rogue growls at Niall, approaching him on her hands and feet like a lion stalking its prey, but she doesn’t make it far before Ari jumps out and tackles her to the ground. The two begin to violently swipe at and attempt to overpower each other. Ari has a bit of trouble since rogues are notorious for their strength, but the drugs flowing through her system give her an edge. With her arms wrapped around the rogue’s waste, Ari charges forward and takes them out of the darkest part of the warehouse. Out of nowhere, Jonah comes out of the shadows. He’s out of the rogue’s view. When Ari pushes her, causing her to lose balance, Jonah grabs her by the arm, lifts her up, and throws her out an open window. As soon as the sun hits her skin, she’s set ablaze. She turns to ash before she even hits the ground.

Niall is beyond stunned. Rogues in the human world are completely unheard of. They’re not exactly common in The Other either, but they pop up from time to time.

 _“Where the fuck did she come from?”_ he thinks to himself. _“Are there more immortals here than we thought?”_

Jonah and Ari are obviously thinking about something entirely different. They’re giving Niall a matching pair of shit eating grins.

“So,” Jonah drawls. “What did you say about you being the one keeping us alive?”

Niall just stares at them for a moment before he walks away. “Congratulations, you guys aren’t _complete_ failures.”

~

Louis doesn’t know what comes over him. He was tossing and turning in his bed just a moment ago, and now he’s storming across the cul-de-sac wearing nothing but a pair of sweats and fuzzy socks. It’s early in the morning, the sun has yet to rise, and pure determination acts as his gasoline. When he reaches the doorstep of Harry’s granny, he raises a fist, poised to knock, then stops.

“What am I doing?” he asks himself.

“What _are_ you doing?”

Shocked, Louis turns toward the source of the voice. Harry, his arms crossed over his chest, is standing at the side of the house wearing a sun hat, a pair of overalls, and some gloves. Louis looks down by the boy’s feet to see a small garden of light pink and violet tulips. He nearly melts on the spot. Once again, he internally chastises himself for letting a mortal make him feel so… he can’t even place a name on it.

“I was…” Louis trails off, attempting to come up with an excuse. “I want some… flour.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “... Flour?”

“Um… yes,” Louis nods. “Yes, I am here… for flour… so I can… bake… a cake… a chocolate cake.”

Harry seems at a genuine loss for words. Here stands a boy who was so cold to him a few days ago… asking for flour. Even Louis has to hold in a laugh at how preposterous the entire situation is.

“Well,” Harry sighs. “I hate to disappoint you, but we’re currently out of flour.”

Louis nods his head like a madman before he _forces_ himself to stop. “Yeah, ok, that’s fine. I’m, uh… sorry for bothering you.”

He turns around to leave, but Harry stops him in his tracks by saying, “But we’ll have flour this afternoon. I’m going grocery shopping after my classes.”

Louis looks back at him and clenches his fists when he sees the smile on Harry’s face. It exudes such a strong warmth and he fears that it may have the power to melt his frigid insides.

“I… I might come back then,” Louis responds.

Harry smiles wider, his dimples assaulting every sense Louis has. “I hope you do. You can’t make a cake without flour.”

Louis just stands where he is for a moment before he nods and briskly walks back to his house.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” he curses to himself.

Harry hears him and has to cover his mouth to keep in a laugh that'll wake up the entire neighborhood.

~

Though Quinn insisted on driving around longer and doing more reconnaissance, Liam would not budge from his suggestion that they needed somewhere to stay for the day.

“The sun is dangerously close to rising and you need rest,” he argued.

The two of them are currently in a dingy motel room, their curtains drawn, going over all the evidence on the desk before them.

A syringe with traces of heroin in it. A list of locations all over the states, some scratched out, some circled. Empty blister packs. Cassette tapes. Abandoned disposable cell phones. Brochures. Empty blood bags. Written and recorded interviews of people from past locations.

Quinn yawns before she says, “There are lots of locations in Vermont circled. Perhaps they’re moving somewhere up there.”

Liam shakes his head. “Nah, they never settle somewhere twice. I’m more focused on Rhode Island. They’ve never settled there and there’s only two towns written.”

“They’re both scratched out, though,” she points out. “Why-”

“The last location is also scratched out,” he cuts her off. “Maybe they’re going down a list.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Yeah… fuck, or maybe there is no rhyme or reason to it. There are three scratched out and five circled locations we know they’ve never been to!”

Liam is slightly taken aback by Quinn’s outburst. It’s rare for her to curse, but when she does, it’s usually because she’s under a high amount of stress.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

She breathes a deep sigh and places her hands on the desks. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We are running out of time. The council is getting impatient. _Irina_ is getting impatient.”

“I know,” he spits. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I just actively choose not to stress myself out because it achieves nothing. We’re hot on their trail, Quinn. I can feel it. I’ll drag those bloodsuckers to the council if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

Quinn is silent for a moment, allowing only the air conditioner to vacate the silence, before she says, “You know I’m a _bloodsucker_ , right?”

Liam’s eyes soften as he takes her hand in his. “You know I’m not referring to you when I say that. You’re not like the others.”

“Not like the others?” She scoffs. “I survive off blood, my injuries fade as quickly as they come, I grew up in the slums your people left us to die in centuries ago. I’m a _bloodsucker._ ”

He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone, your self control is astounding, and you’re willing to aid the very people you were raised to hate because you want to do what’s right. You are not like them.”

Quinn grows silent, letting Liam believe she took that as a compliment. She knows his hatred for the immortal kind comes from a place of childhood trauma and anguish, so it’s difficult for her to hate him for it, but as long as he keeps referring to their targets as _bloodsuckers_ , she will continue to believe the insult is somehow aimed at her.

That’s the effect of _her_ trauma and anguish.

Liam hums to himself. “I almost forgot…”

He digs into his backpack and pulls out two candles in pristine, bronze candle holders and a lighter. With the items in hand, he instructs Quinn to not disturb him and locks himself in the bathroom. He faces the mirror as he places the candles on either side of the sink and lights them. The overpowering scent of cinnamon quickly fills the space. As the wax melts, Liam closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and focuses his energy on a face… a spirit… and then a mind.

“Irina,” he calls. “Appear to me.”

When he opens his eyes, he sees Irina staring right back at him, her shoulders tense and her expression cold.

As expected, she doesn’t look pleased.

“Have you made _any_ progress with obtaining my son?”


End file.
